The Hurt and the Healer
by RedHeadedViking
Summary: "All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools." Anders may have to change his tune when *he* is the fool at whom Hawke plans to shoot lightning.


Anders raised his arm in feeble defense against the light that battered against his eyelids. "Wha…" He forced his eyes open, then slammed then shut against the glare. He struggled against the sleep that threatened to reclaim him. "Adams? Is that you? Is something wrong?"

"I hate to bother you healer, but there's a lady here and she's hurt bad. There's blood all over her face. I thinks she's on the run from someone what done her badly."

Anders groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position, throwing back the horse blanket covering him as he did so. Bits of hay clung to his straw-colored hair. He braced his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. "By the Maker, I'm exhausted. Can't it wait? I need to rest before I can heal again. It took all I had to heal that family of refugees."

"I wouldn't bother you ser, but like I said, the lady's hurt bad. Maybe you can just tend her wounds without magic? Clean her up a bit and send her on her way?"

"Fine, fine. Bring her in, I'll see what I can do." He slumped briefly in exhaustion but drew in a deep breath and put on his professional healer's face. "And Adams? I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm thankful that you have let me stay here as long as you have. I'll be moving on soon; I don't want to put you in any more danger."

"Pah!" Adams spat into the dirt. "There's nowhere safe these days, lad. Stay as long as you will." His voice faded as he moved toward the doorway and the mysterious woman. When he reappeared a moment later, he led the figure by elbow, moving slowly so as not to jar her wounds.

"Here you are, miss. This here is Anders - the finest healer in all Thedas if you ask me. I'm sure that he'll have you fixed up in a jiffy." He led the figure to the stool in the corner used for patients; without it, they would have to sit on the dirt floor. Turning to the mage, Adams asked, "Is there anything that you need?"

"Please put some water on to boil in case I need it to clean her wounds. If it's not needed for healing, I would dearly love a cup of tea if you can spare it." He grinned, his good humor returning. Anders was always happiest when he was busy; idle time left too much time to remember.

"Of course, young man. Of course. Come to the kitchen when you are done and I'll give you tea and a bit of bread. The missus baked it fresh today." Giving a wave, the farmer moved off, taking his lantern with him.

Anders shook his head, pushing back his exhaustion and reached for his staff. With a wave of his hand, the crystal embedded in the tip glowed with a clean, bright light.

"Now, let's see what's going on with you." He reached for the edge of the stranger's hood and the figure cringed as if expecting a blow. "Shh, it's all right. I won't hurt you - I promise. But, I do have to see your wounds before I can heal them." This time when he reached for the hood the figure sat still. He shifted his staff to angle the light for better viewing. "There, that's be-" Anders jerked back in shock. "By Andraste's great dimpled butt cheek, it can't be! Hawke?"

"Yes, damn you!" Hawke leapt to her feet, flinging the hood of her cloak back. Her blue eyes blazed in fury. Blue energy crackled from her fingertips. "I know how you feel about shooting lightning at fools, so I'm sure you'll understand." She raised her hand menacingly.

"No, Hawke, I…"

"Don't 'Hawke' me! I love - loved - you! I took you into my home and heart and I thought that you loved me as well."

Anders heart clenched at her switch to past tense. "I do! I…"

"Once the others were gone, at least we still had each other. Or so I thought. I should have known something was up when we stopped at that inn." She paced furiously, the light shining on the red tattoo on her nose each time she passed in front of it. "For the first time in _ages_ we were warm, dry, and well-fed. We made love in a bed - a real bed! - in front of a roaring fire and the next morning, you were gone. At least you left a note." She closed her eyes as she recited from memory. "_I'm sorry, love, but this is for the best. I hope that someday you will forgive me_." Her eyes flew open, glistening with unshed tears.

Anders knew better than to thing that they were tears of sadness. He knew better than anyone that Hawke rarely cried, and when she did, it was generally a sign that she was as mad as a wet mabari.

She glared at him. "How dare you leave me and call me 'love' in the same breath?" Her voice broke. "I don't think you even know the meaning of the words."

"Ouch." Anders flinched as if she had struck him.

Hawke breathed heavily, staring into the flames that now encircled her hand as she struggled for control. After a moment she drew in a deep breath and flicked them away. "No need for me to burn down the barn of an innocent man just because I am angry at a not-so-innocent one."

"I told you before we got involved that I would hurt you."

"So you did. And you were right, you did. But we got through that - together. And then you snuck off in the middle of the night? Whatever happened to 'I'd rather be on the run with you than safe with anyone else'? Or were those just words to you?"

Anders ran his fingers through his hair, noticing the straw for the first time. He began working the pieces free and tossing them to the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look at Hawke – to see the pain in her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you anymore."

"So, oh wise healer, can you explain exactly how abandoning me and breaking my heart wasn't going to hurt me?"

"I just…" His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I didn't think so. It is the stupidest logic that I have _ever_ heard." Hawke's anger grew by the moment. Rather than shoot lightning bolts at the fool in front of her, she picked up the stool and threw it against the wall. One of the legs, which was only held on with prayer and a bit of wire, broke off.

_Great_. Anders winced. It was probably one of the best pieces of furniture that the farmer had, a gift for the healer, and she had broken it.

The mare in the next stall stomped her foot in alarm.

"There, there." Hawke stepped to the stall door and let the horse sniff her hand. "I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at the idiot next door." She jerked her head toward Anders. "You have more sense than he does, I'm sure." Giving the horse one final pat she returned to both Anders and the attack. They were so close they were almost touching.

"Hawke, would you just…" Anders gritted his teeth in frustration as she interrupted yet again.

"Just what? There is nothing that you can say that will help. You-"

Her words shut off as Anders grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her to him and kissed her hard, hungrily.

Hawke struggled against his grip, but he didn't loosen it. He held her harder and backed her against the wall, his lips relentless. Almost against her will, she leaned into him, her lips parting, inviting him to deepen the kiss.

Anders accepted her invitation, kissing her until they had to part or faint from lack of oxygen. "Now," he panted, "will you _please_ let me talk?"

"I…"

Anders placed his fingers gently over Hawke's bruised lips, his old smile touching his face and eyes. "Don't make me kiss you again, woman. So help me, I'll do it."

Hawke couldn't help but grin in return. She bit back the words that were struggling to get out and nodded.

Anders pulled her to his pile of hay and sat facing her, holding her hands in his. "I do love you. But, you are in danger if you stay with me. I may be responsible for the war that is swallowing Thedas, but I couldn't bear it if I brought harm to you. I'm being hunted and I don't want you trapped in a snare of my making."

"Do you seriously think that they will stop hunting me just because we aren't together? I'm in just as much danger now as ever, if not more so. Now they will want to capture me and torture me to find out what I know about your whereabouts, in spite of the fact that I know - knew - nothing." Hawke glanced around again, once again overcome with the need to throw something but nothing came readily to hand. She sighed. "You are the most frustrating man that I have ever met."

"You are not the first to say so." It was true, but hearing it from Hawke hurt more than he thought possible.

"This would be a lot easier if I could hate you." Hawke reached out a gentle hand and caressed his cheek; her sad smile tugged at his heartstrings. "In all the time we've been together, I've never known how you keep your stubble just so."

"What do you mean?" Anders raised his own hand to his cheek. He was in need of a shave but that was nothing unusual.

"I've never seen you with a full beard - just the sexy stubble. Do male mages receive training in some sort of arcane anti-beard growth spells?"

"You think my stubble is sexy?" Anders rubbed his cheek against Hawke's hand before turning and dropping a kiss on her palm.

"Stop that," Hawke grumbled, snatching her hand back. She crossed her arms and held them tightly to her chest.

Anders knew enough to know that she wasn't really angry – not now, anyway. Having Hawke so close after all this time was impacting his ability to concentrate; he wanted her so badly he could barely think. Her reaction to his kiss made him think that she was feeling the strain too.

"Are you willing to listen to me now?" Hawke asked.

Anders sighed and tried to push away his thoughts of taking her by the light of his staff. He barely remembered to nod.

"Have you forgotten that I'm an apostate, just like you? I've never lived in a circle. I've spent my whole life hiding from the Templars, never getting to fully utilize my powers because it might draw the attention of the wrong people. My time in Kirkwall was the first time that I have ever been so free - not only could I use my powers, but I could flaunt them in the faces of those that would otherwise hunt me. It was dangerous - and exhilarating." She smiled as she remembered the first time that she realized what she was capable of and how the authorities couldn't stop her. "Even better, I met a man just like me. Powerful, and in hiding. He was also handsome to boot. He swore that he would hurt me, but I was willing to take my chances and I'm glad that I did. I couldn't have become the Champion without him by my side. Our powers, as did our bodies, complimented each other nicely. We fit together in more ways than one." She flashed him the dazzling smile that he loved. "Even when he blew up the Chantry and began a civil war – I spared his life."

Anders hung his head in shame. "I bet he even thanked you and promised not to make a mess of it this time."

"He did - and he did. He mucked things up royally. You see, he has been running his whole life. He escaped from the Circle more times than he could count, he even ran away from the Gray Wardens. He runs, and runs, and runs. He says that he doesn't want to endanger others, endanger me, but I think there is more to it than that."

"Oh?" Anders' heart hammered against his ribs from more than desire.

"Yes." Hawke moved closer, running her fingertips lightly over his jaw. "You see, I think that deep down inside, he doesn't believe that he is worthy of love, even though he played at it for a while in Kirkwall. He uses danger as an excuse to run again, to throw away the love that he has always longed for. Then, he can blame others - it is the Templars fault because they hate mages, it is the mages fault because they were too weak to fight against their captors, forcing his hand. It is the fault of those that he heals because they need him, leaving him little to spare for anyone else. It is everyone's fault but his own - or so he thinks. In actuality, it is no one's fault _but_ his own. He can't help being what he is, or the world that he was born into. However, the choices he made in that world were his alone to make. No one forced him to leave the Circle or the Wardens or to take a spirit of Justice into himself. He threw himself into a cause where I think he actually hoped he would die so that he would no longer have to deal with the pain or the consequences of his actions. Yet, he didn't die. He found love and love gave him a second chance. Instead of embracing love, he ran again - and broke love's heart. The question is, now that love has found him - again - what is he going to do about it?"

Anders realized that Hawke was crying again, tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight broke his heart. He reached out and wiped the tears away with his thumb. "Don't cry, love. I can handle your anger, but not your tears. Never your tears."

"Why is that?" Hawke asked, the tears coming quicker. She made no attempt to stop them.

Anders dropped his gaze as he thought. His expression was rueful when he looked back up. "I'm used to anger; I've dealt with it as long as I can remember. I was always pissing someone off. I deflect anger with humor - or haven't you noticed?" He laughed ruefully. "But tears… no one has ever shed tears for me. I don't know how to deal with them."

"The first step is to accept the blame for them - these tears are _your_ fault. Can you do that? Can you understand and acknowledge that I am crying because of the hurt that _you_ caused? No one else - just you."

"Don't look at me like that, Hawke. You're tearing me apart."

"Good. Maybe now you have a taste of how you made me feel."

"It doesn't feel good. I am… sorry that I hurt you. I never thought that I would make you cry."

"What?!" The tears stopped and the anger was back. Hawke grasped her staff so hard that her knuckles shone whitely through her skin even in the dim light.

Anders wasn't sure if she was preparing to cast a spell or simply hit him over the head with it. Either one - or both - was probably justified. He held up a hand in a feeble attempt to ward off whatever assault that she had planned. "Hear me out. Please."

"This is your last chance. I suggest you choose your words wisely. If I walk out of here tonight, you will never see me again - I promise."

"You are right, Hawke - in so many ways. You scare the hell out of me. I know that I am tainted by the blight but I want to spend whatever time I have left with you. I also don't want you to watch me fail as the taint grows. I know you. When my Calling comes and I return to the Deep Roads - if I live long enough to do so - you will want to go with me to fight and possibly die by my side."

"So? That is my choice to make."

"But it will be _my_ choices that drove you to it. I could have resisted your flirtations, walked away when you wanted more."

"But you didn't - you admitted that you wanted me too."

"I did. I do. I've never met a woman like you. A woman that I have wanted to be with so completely. I love you and it scares me, so I did what I do best. I ran. My reasons were selfish and you have called me out on all but the real reason. If I ran, I wouldn't have to face the fears that loving you brings. My fears of hurting you, of losing you, of not being worthy of your love; my fears of never, ever being good enough for such a woman, no matter how hard I try."

"Does it mean nothing that I, the woman in question, think that you are worth _everything_? I could have turned you over to the Templars or even killed you myself, but I didn't. I couldn't bear watching you die. I told you before that I wanted you to stay with me until the day that we die. I meant it then and I mean it now. We may not have a manor house to grow old in. Maker, we may not even get a chance to grow old. But, even if we only have one day left - I want to spend it with you. This is my choice to make and I have made it. You do not get to take my choice away from me because it scares you. You are a grown man. It is high time that you learn to face your fears. Only by doing so will you ever truly live."

"I have done so many things wrong. I have wronged you and hurt you, my heart. Is it possible for you to forgive me? I promise to spend whatever time we have left making it up to you. I knew when I walked out the door to the inn that I was making the worst mistake of my life, yet I couldn't seem to stop myself. I've been running for so long, I don't know how to stop. But for you, I will try. Will you give me one more chance, love?"

Hawke smiled through her tears and the sight was like sunshine through the rain. "I forgave you as soon as I saw you. Stay with me, and let my love heal you."

"I don't deserve you, but I am so glad that I found you." Anders gathered Hawke into his arms, holding her as if he would never let her go. "Or, should I say, that you found me." For the first time in a very long time he prayed. _Maker, help me be worthy of this woman that you have blessed me with_.

Even though he wanted nothing more than to sit alone in this dark, smelly barn holding Hawke for the rest of his life, Anders finally had to break the silence. "How _did_ you find me?"

She sniffed and rolled her eyes. "It was easy. It took some time and a lot of careful questioning of people that were reluctant to talk, but… You, my love, are predictable. You care greatly about those that the rest of the world rarely sees, those that live in the shadows, hurt, hungry, and struggling just to survive from day to day. You care enough to risk yourself to make their lives easier; you heal their wounds and give them hope even when the darkness is closing in. You do this because… You. Are. A. Good. Man." Hawke punctuated each word with a kiss. "All I had to do was go where the fighting had been the fiercest, where people were in the greatest need. I knew that that is where you would be, doing what the Maker created you to do - healing His children that are in pain." She placed one hand on a beard-roughened cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "And I believe that the Maker made me for you. I was created to heal the healer so that he can do his job to the fullest."

"Ah, love-" Anders started when Hawke gasped and clutched her belly. He felt his eyes widened as her cloak stretched and moved beneath her hand. "Hawke!" The blood drained from his face. "Are you… with child?"

"And if I am? We were rather enthusiastic with our affections for one another. Or did you not know where babies come from?"

"Hawke… I… I… I think I'm going to faint." Anders leaned over, pressing his forehead against his bent knees as the room began to slowly spin around him. He was vaguely aware of Hawke's girlish laughter swirling around him; it had a lovely purple tint. "I'm trying to faint here. Do you really think that laughter is the best response?"

"Oh, Anders! The look on your face." Hawke doubled-over as the next wave of laughter took her. "Ah! The baby doesn't like that. Yes Anders, I am with child - only not in the way that you think." Shifting slightly, Hawke reached into her cloak and pulled out a small marmalade kitten, a dirty bandage wrapped around its right front leg. "I found this guy shivering in the bushes outside the remains of a burned out house a few miles down the road." She cupped the kitten in both hands and raised him to her eye level. The kitten gave a silent meow before licking pitifully at its injured leg. "I cleaned its leg as best I could, bandaged it and put it in my robes to keep it warm. I knew that if anyone could help, it would be you." She held the baby out to Anders.

"You look just like Ser Pounce-A-Lot." He scratched the kitten gently under the chin, his fingers beginning to glow with warm, healing energy. "Except for the eyes - his eyes were green, yours are still blue. I guess we'll just have to wait and see if they change as you get older." He continued talking in a soothing voice as he removed the bandage and surveyed the damage to the leg. "Looks like you got a little too close to the flames. You've got a nasty burn." The kitten cried out as Anders touched the sensitive skin. "There, there little one. See?" He slid his glowing fingertip along the burn, leaving clean pink skin in its path. His eyes narrowed as he stroked the shivering body, searching for additional wounds. "A few scrapes and bruises, nothing serious. You got off easy little one. Well, except for losing your family, I guess."

The kitten licked Anders finger as if in thanks and collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

"I suspect that he will sleep through the night. Pain is exhausting. Poor thing. He's lucky you came along when you did."

"I knew that I could find a good home for him." Hawke grinned. "So, what are you going to name him?"

"I don't quite know. I think I'll have to get to know him a bit and see what suits him." Anders stroked the kitten gently. "Thank you, Hawke. I've really missed having a cat. I guess if I could take Ser Pounce-A-Lot into the Deep Roads, this guy can handle our travels. Don't you… ah… uh… gree?" Anders looked at Hawke to find that she had stripped, laying her cloak on the hay and draping herself on top of it seductively. She had lost weight since he had last seen her naked but Maker, she was gorgeous. His manhood responded eagerly, straining at his breeches. For a very brief moment, he missed the freedom of the robes that he had worn in the circle and as a Warden. Robes made amorous adventures much easier. "By all the gods, Hawke," he growled.

There was no time for gentleness or foreplay. There was only raw, burning need and the healing that could only come through the joining of their bodies; the most primitive of languages that required no words, only the press of flesh and groans of pleasure. Yanking the front of his breeches open, Anders was on Hawke, _in_ her, with no further ado.

Hawke met Anders' assault eagerly, sheathing him to the hilt in warm, wet, velvety steel. In Hawke, he found his home, his center, his everything. The slap of their flesh as he thrust violently spoke of hurt, spoke of healing, spoke of love, spoke of forever. This joining was a covenant, from this point forward there was no going back. There was only the present, the future, and in both places they would always be one.

"Anders? Yer tea is gettin' cold." Farmer Adams wandered into the barn to find the healer and his patient tangled in the hay, oblivious to his presence. The light from his lantern revealed pale flesh, pink-tipped breasts and breathless, almost anguished thrusting. He backed quickly away, chuckling under his breath. "There's healing and then there's healing. Hmmm. I seem to be feelin' a bit poorly myself. I think I'll go see if the missus can fix me up."


End file.
